


Two Roads Diverged ...

by salable_mystic



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Pernese Politics, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 08:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salable_mystic/pseuds/salable_mystic
Summary: ... in a (figurative) Pernese Wood.Which one will Robinton decide to take?





	Two Roads Diverged ...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redfive86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfive86/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, Redfive86!

The turns have turned into a waiting game for Robinton.

He’s waiting for the right moment, even though he has no precise idea of when it will happen to be.

There are some prerequisite requirements that he can name – has listed, for himself, numerous times, whenever he is feeling too impatient and greedy and reckless and just wants to say “Shards!” and damn the consequences – but other than that, he knows that he will need to tune it by ear. Which … was not something he’d worried about too much, back when it seemed as if the turns would never pass and he’d be waiting forever, or back when he was still of the opinion that remaining silent forever was the right path to choose … but now that more and more obstacles are being surmounted by time and politics, now that the impossible seems merely improbable and is getting to almost be within reach, now that he has admitted to himself that he can either remain silent or true to himself and to Menolly’s trust in him, but not both … _now_ he’s starting to worry. To worry about the when and the how and the what and … all the little details that he’s not really allowed himself to ponder before, for fear of getting carried away and losing sight of the bigger picture.

It’s a little ridiculous, really … he’s the Masterharper of Pern, after all, renown for his keen understanding of the most intricate circumstances and his deft handling of fraught situations and interpersonal relations … and here he is feeling as clumsy and clueless as a young hatchling, barely out of its shell, stumbling about and creeling piteously for food … only, in his case, it’s not food that he craves, but rather … .

Well.

All sorts of things really.

Love, intimacy, companionship, hearts-ease, passion, contentment … but all of these desires are connected to, are tangled up with, are _for_ the same person, and that is what is at the heart of his concerns.

Aside from all the Hold and Craft traditions and rules that make what he desires so problematic (rank, age, custom, tradition, power, influence, … ) there are also the more intimate concerns that make him want to tread so very carefully.

Hold and Craft customs and traditions have been softened by the passage of the recent turns, after all – both by carefully crafted conversations, a general steering of opinions and politics, and by the simple fact that as the turns progressed, so did female crafters’ standings in general – and Menolly’s standing in particular – among Holders, Weyrfolk, and fellow Crafters.

No, it’s his own relationship with Menolly that is giving him such pause, rather than Pern’s larger political climate.

Robinton knows that he holds power and influence – has been trained to recognize, shape, and yield power and influence as if they were marks themselves – over Menolly. How could he not? He has been, as the turns progressed, her rescuer, father figure, mentor, Master, Craftmaster – and while their relationship has become more equal with her walking the tables and her turns spent being a Journeywoman away from the Mastercrafthall – it is in no way, and can never be, as equal as he might desire for it to be.

So Robinton knows, (fears, is all to certain of), _knows_ that Menolly is still – and will most likely always be – easily swayed by his words, his desires, to the point where she might do things that go against her own best interest or wishes, simply because she feels that it might be what he prefers her to do.

Part of it is the innate relationship between any Master and his or her (former) Apprentice.

(Robinton has been witness to/has had to adjudicate in too many – _even one is too many_ – cases where this influence was exercised improperly, to not be very aware of the inherent dangers any such imbalance holds).

But a larger part are factors that are unique to the situation he and Menolly are finding themselves in. She was, after all, the first female Harper apprentice, is currently the first female Journeywoman Harper, and will soon – hopefully –be the first female Harpercraft Master. Aside from their private dynamics and the pitfalls they bear, how can he possibly, _possibly_ make his desires known to her without invalidating all that she has achieved in the eyes of the already critical Holders and Crafters and Weyrfolk of Pern, without them saying that this was all she was good for all along?

The answer is simple: He can’t. Not really.

The Masterharper of Pern making advances on the first female Harper, newly made Master, someone whom he himself brought into the Craft, someone who he himself made an Apprentice – against sustained criticism from most of his fellow Masters and Pern at large – someone who was his Journeywoman for turns. How can that _not_ look like he had ulterior motives all along, or even worse?

Robinton’s curse, in this, is that he knows Pern and its politics well. Too well to be optimistic, in this. He knows, _knows_ , and so there is nothing uncertain about his assessment, about his understanding of how his fellow Pernese would react. He knows what their reaction would be, would bet a year’s worth of his supply of Benden wine on it without breaking a sweat about possibly losing access to his favorite drink.

The question, then, is not so much what to do about it, if he is to say something – other than minimize the damage as much as possible, by deft crafting and careful acting – but whether it is something that it is worth risking so much for at all.

His answer to that question has, if he is entirely honest with himself (which he tries to be, if not with as many people as often as they probably deserve), vacillated over the turns – at first it was a flat out “ _No!_ ” – back when he was still trying to come to grips with the fact that he had fallen, of all inconceivable, between-cursed things, _in love with_ someone young enough to be his daughter. He’d tried to deny it to himself, obstinate fool that he was – Menolly had only been a turn into her Journeywomanship then, had slowly grown from the shy scared girl she had been as an apprentice into a more self-assured young woman at the time … so when he’d first realized that his thoughts about her (she’d been on his mind quite frequently right from their first encounter, so it wasn’t as if he’d only then started thinking about her) had taken a different direction from what they used to … when he first realized that he was looking at her with the desire a man felt for a woman, rather than with the feelings a father should have for a daughter … he’d been … … … well ... ... ... it had not been an easy couple of sevendays.

Anger, denial, despair, frustration, horror … .

He wasn’t proud of his actions, then … for his reaction to his changing feelings had been to send Menolly away on her Journeywoman’s travels a couple sevendays before she had been supposed to be assigned out – he’d not trusted himself around her, had second-guessed every interaction they had, become unsure of what kind of distance he used to keep between them before his new feelings became such a large (hidden, disguised) part of his interactions with her. He’d hoped that his – unasked for, unwanted – feelings would go away, the way she had been made to leave … .

Menolly had noticed something, of course, smart woman that she was … but thankfully had put it down to the tangled situation between Hold, Weyr and Craft at the time, and the intricacies of deciding where on Pern to assign the first female Journeyman Harper.

So she’d been gone, and he’d had time … to reassess.

To live in denial of his feelings for sevendays upon sevendays, to rage at himself, to have a meaningless fling with a like-minded Holder’s widow, to hope for his feelings to cease … .

To, ultimately … pine. To come to accept his feelings, their intensity, their unchanging, unalterable, absolute nature.

He’d missed her quite terribly, been envious of the people she spent her time with, and yet had wanted her to do well and to find love and contentment with someone younger, safer, more acceptable … . That would have been both the easiest and the hardest solution to his dilemma … if she had found someone else. He’d have known that his feelings were hopeless, then … but he’d have been able to stand it, for the sake of her own happiness.

But she never had.

Found someone.

Sebell had seemed like a likely candidate for a while. (He’d been so jealous and irrationally angry, then … battling himself time and again to not abuse his position in order to assign them as far away from each other as possible).

And yet … .

She’d returned to the Hall, been reassigned, returned, been reassigned, and the turns had passed, and she had remained alone.

That fact had never changed, even as she, as Pern had.

And ... neither had his feelings.

They’d become stronger, more mature, complex, refined, as Menolly matured as well … but they’d not changed.

So, after denial came resigned acceptance (she’d find someone else), came worry that she wasn’t finding someone else, came, finally … a desperate sort of hope.

A vague plan.

The dream of the possibility of a chance.

Of if, if, if … .

If ... then.

Then - maybe, maybe, maybe ... .

And now, most of those preconditions would soon be fulfilled.

He’d told himself, _promised_ himself, that he’d only – _if_ he ever said anything about his feelings to her at all – he’d _only_ say something once Menolly had made Master (and some of his fellow harpers _who weren’t he_ would have to suggest her promotion, this was not something he was able to do, not if… ) and _only_ if other female apprentices in other crafts had not just been accepted, but had also been promoted to Journeywoman at least, and started to be accepted by their fellow Pernese on their own merits, and _only_ once the troubles with the Oldtimers had been settled for the time being, and _only_ if things were reasonably quiet on the Southern Continent … . And, and, and … .

And now, it looked as if all of those conditions might be fulfilled at long last.

Pern as a whole was rather placid this turn, everyone busy exploring in the South … Journeywomen were, if not exactly common, then at least present in a number of other crafts … and some of his fellow masters were openly discussing nominating Menolly to be elected one of the new Harper Masters to be invocated at the next craft conclave, which was to take place in two sevendays.

So, _if_ he were to speak up at all … the time was certainly coming up to do so.

But that still left the question of how to approach this subject in a way that made it absolutely clear to Menolly that this was going to be Menolly’s decision entirely. She was the one who had far more to risk than he did, after all – he’d achieved more than he had ever truly aspired to in his craft and was looking back at a long succession of turns in which he had succeeded more than he had failed – what did he care if his reputation among his fellow Pernese soured now? But Menolly was only setting out on her career, would be the first female Master on Pern in this age … and she was young still, had so much ahead of her … whereas he, even if the turns were kind to him, had more of his turns behind him than ahead … .

An impossible situation, Robinton was certain.

And yet, and yet … .

The answer, of course, was going to be, as it so often was – at least to a Harper – tuning.

He had two sevendays (well, three or four, really, with the conclave set to last for at least a sevenday, and then he’d better give it at leaset a _little_ time after…) to craft a tune for both Menolly only and yet for all of Pern, a tune that showed all of his admiration and love for this magnificent woman, while yet making it clear that he was asking for nothing in return, that he would be – if not happy, then certainly, surely, content – with just stating his love and desire and admiration for her and laying it all at her feet, without expecting anything in return.

He’d have to bare his heart, his very soul, to Menolly, Pern, Faranth herself.

\--

Sighing heavily and taking a deep draught from his trusty goblet of Benden’s finest, Robinton resolutely turned to his sand table and picked up his quill.

He’d been silent long enough.

It was time that Menolly and Pern heard of his love for the most magnificent woman he had ever met.

.


End file.
